It wasn't easy for me to push what happened in the Volvo aside, but I managed to seal away the emotions, the confusion, and the horror of what occurred, allowing my mind to focus on the task on hand.
I had shadowed into the building lobby and had hidden among the shadows behind a large fern. Regaining control over my emotions, I peeked through the fern, looking about the lobby and feeling like I was in a fancy hotel. The place was flamboyant, expensive pictures, tall plants, royal carpets…I never understood the rich's need to surround themselves with expensive objects. Leave the pictures in a museum for others to enjoy, not just the rich people who buy them.
A couple walked into the lobby, chatting politely to one another as they approached the reception desk. The man leaned forward over the desk and asked the woman behind it were the fundraiser was located. She replied that it was up on the fourth floor.
I turned my head to see that the stairs were very well-lit. There were shadows I could use, but they were small. As the couple headed for the stairs, an idea struck me. I shadowed, tuning my mind to the man's shadow. To my surprise, my idea worked; the only problem was the fact that the man was moving that I couldn't hold onto so I have to walk behind him, keeping with his shadow to hide.
After climbing three flights of stairs, the couple and I approached a pair of double doors where two men stood behind a podium, one leaning over a guest book and the other waiting to open the door. The couple walked up and gave their names, and the man by the door gripped the handle and opened it for the couple. I wandered in behind them, and then, spotting some shadows to the side, I abandoned the man's shadow, relieved.
The fundraiser for the police was in a large room, filled with the club's members, Gotham's rich people, cops dressed formally, and servers who carried trays of filled glasses or bite-size snacks. Long tables were lined about the room, shaping a squared-off U with a podium acting as a keystone to the squared arch. From the intercoms in the ceiling and walls, classical music played strings, giving background noise to keep the room from falling silent, even though I doubted that was possible with the amount of people.
I edged around the room, keeping to the shadows – shadowing to another set, if necessary – and ducked away from people, trying to give them enough space so that if they moved suddenly, they wouldn't hit me.
The Commissioner was difficult to locate with the number of people at the fundraiser. It took me a full ten minutes, and I wasn't surprised to find him by a side table, talking to someone. I grinned as I crept over in the shadows, my hearing tuned to his conversation with the guy.
As I approached, I couldn't help but check the guy out. He appeared to be close to his thirties with a fit figure. His hair, combed and tidy, was coal black, and his eyes – shining with intelligence – were blue. I blinked as I stopped within the shadows. Boy, wasn't he handsome!
"Well, congratulations again, Jim," the man said, his voice kind and soft. "Sorry I won't be able to stay for dinner."
"The life of a busy sociality," Gordon sighed. "Any way I could sneak out with you, Wayne?"
Wayne – as he was called – chuckled as he shook Gordon's hand. "Afraid not," he said. "But with the funds you should get tonight, you'll be able to enquire better equipment for capturing criminals." He smiled and clapped Gordon's shoulder before turning away. I followed him out the double doors and stood watching him as he hurried down the stairs.
"Bruce Wayne," I murmured. The Joker had told me about the famous playboy of Gotham. Rich, spoiled…and so good-looking. If I wasn't with the Joker…no, not with him. Definitely not with him. It didn't matter that I had lost control over my emotions with him in the backseat of the Volvo; I was not. With. Him.
I turned back and returned to Gordon, listening into his conversations with a variety of people. I didn't know when the Joker planned on coming in, but I hoped he didn't make me wait too long. Shadows weren't plentiful, despite all the lights. I had to rely on people's shadows to move about the room. Then, it was easier to keep with Gordon, but I altered between people, listening to conversations and finding out how many cops were at the fundraiser.
There was at least twenty cops dressed up in tuxedos in the room, a few were women dressed in dresses. I couldn't help but smirk, liking the fact that the Joker hadn't pushed me to put on a dress for this party. There was one cop who seemed familiar, rather he was a detective. Last name was Nash, but his looks were familiar. No matter how long I remained near him, watching, I couldn't for the life of me place where I had seen him before.
I wandered for about half an hour, waiting for the guests to simply sit down and eat. When no one was looking, I snatched something here and there, just something for me to munch on while I waited.
A quarter to nine, Gordon finally moved to the podium, causing a round of applause about the room. From a corner close to him, I clapped too, trying hard not to yawn with boredom. He kept his speech short, talking about Gotham's finest and how their work was making Gotham better. I tried to hold back a laugh, finding what the Commissioner was saying funny, and I could just imagine how funny the Joker would have thought it was, if he was listening to it. After awhile, I blocked Gordon out, and simply viewed the guests nodding as they listened to the Commissioner. Finally, Gordon came to his conclusion, saying how honored he was to be the Commissioner of the Police Department. "I'm very touched," he told the audience, "And I'll conclude with-."
He cut off when rapid shots went off. I turned my head toward the double doors, a faint smile touching my lips.
Talk about dramatic and good-timing.
The double doors slammed open, stealing screams from several women within the room. From my spot near Commissioner Gordon, I could see the Joker's henchmen clearly as they ran in, firing gunshots up at the ceiling. The cops started to pull out their side-arms, but the servers knocked them out, holding the police down.
This was an interesting twist in the plan. My eyes widened as I realized that the Joker had set it up so that he wasn't going in with just seven guys; he had men inside the club already.
I saw Commissioner Gordon reaching for his gun, but I shadowed over and took it from him, grabbing him in a headlock. "Don't move, Gordon," I whispered, my voice cold, cruel. I jerked his head up just as the Joker himself entered the room, a submachine gun hanging at his side, followed by our Rottweilers.
The Joker looked around the room, like he was taking in the view of cops being held in locks, some having their own handcuffs on their wrists. "Is it just-ah me, or does this feel like déjà vu?" he asked loudly so everyone could hear him. No one responded, and the Joker grinned. "The audience is stunned."
He walked proudly amongst the party members who weren't cops; the Rottweilers jumped ahead, growling at the civilians, making a path for their master. All eyes were on the Joker, if they weren't focused on the growling dogs or the clowns who held weapons to their faces. The Joker scanned the room as he continued. "I heard ah-bout this test-imonial for Com-mish-ioner Gordon, and thought I'd drop by, for not only his, but your, enter-tain-ment." He stopped, and his eyes narrowed. "Where is the fine Com-mish-ioner?"
A number of people glanced in the Commissioner's direction, but all looked surprised and scared when they didn't see him. I smiled, wondering if they thought he had abandoned them when the Joker had arrived.
One look at the clown, and I knew the Joker wasn't happy with this new development.
He tossed his submachine gun carelessly to one of the clowns and pulled out a handgun from his pocket as he grabbed a boy out of the crowd, pressing his weapon to the kid's head. The boy appeared to be in his middle teens, too young to socialize well with the adults but old enough to come to a party such as this. I glanced over to see the boy's mother clinging tightly to her husband, fearing for her son's life.
I looked back, seeing the daring menace in the Joker's eyes, but the paralyzing fear in the kid's had my grip on Gordon tightening with the embers of anger. There were many things that the Joker could, and would, do that I didn't care about, but even though I didn't mind him killing people, I had an objection to him killing, or even harming a child. The reason could probably be drawn from my past, having been tortured as a kid, and I didn't want other children to have gone through what I did.
Taking my handgun from my belt, I cocked it and pointed it at the Joker. It didn't matter what my conflicting feelings for him were; I wouldn't hesitate to kill him, if he moved to really hurt the kid.
"We have a, ah, a young one at such a formal fiesta," the Joker giggled, looking around the room. "Bet he argued with his mom and dad, wanting to stay home rather than come to a party where he can't socialize with some pretty girl." The Joker looked down at the boy, stroking his hair. "I know the feeling…" He turned the boy slightly, grabbing the back of his neck and forcing him to look at him. "Tell me, kid, did you argue with your parents?"
The boy simply stared at him, his eyes wide with fear. His lower lip trembled, and it didn't look like he was going to answer.
"Come now, boy," the Joker encouraged, smacking the boy's cheek. Even though the kid winced, I resisted pulling the trigger. It wasn't hard enough to cause the damage. "It's better to answer rather than give me the silent treatment. Your life depends on your actions less than the others' around you. Look at the crowd." He gestured with his gun to everyone around them. "If one of them makes a wrong move, your life ends now. So far, none of them will dare." The Joker pointedly glared at the guests. "I can name one who would dare…" He looked directly at me, his dark eyes boring into mine.
I pressed my lips together tightly, the hand holding the gun shaking. It shocked me how he had found me so fast, among the crowd, especially when I was shadowmelded into my surroundings. Then, I realized that having contact with the Commissioner, I had made him shadowmeld into his environment, and the Joker had noticed, so he knew I was with Gordon.
Still, the Joker must have sensed that I was threatening his life at the moment, keeping him in line where the kid's life was concerned.
"Now!" the Joker yelled, making everyone in the room jump. "Kid, answer my question. Did you argue with your parents before you came here?"
The boy swallowed and said something inaudible from where I stood.
"No?" The Joker's voice had gone so low that it was nearly inaudible as well. "No," he repeated, louder. "What kind of teenager are you?" He had suddenly become angry, or he was only acting. Either way, the Joker is dangerous while standing on the edge. "You didn't want to stay home! Were you in the state of mind of believing that you'd meet a girl your age? Pathetic." The Joker smacked the boy's face none too gently as if punishing him, causing my trigger finger to twitch, and then shoved him away in disgust. "The youth of Gotham are proving to be quite, ah, disappointing." I took a deep breath, slowly lowering my gun.
"If it's money you want, take it!" someone shouted. Whoever it was chucked their wallet out, and it almost hit the Joker in the head, except he reached up and snatched it out of the air.
The Joker stood there for a moment, opening the wallet and checking an ID card. His eyes shot up as he headed in the direction that the wallet had been thrown from. Within moments, his hand shot out and grabbed a young man, maybe in his early-twenties, by the front of his suit. He squirmed against the Joker's hold, until the Joker held his switchblade his face.
"Don't in-sult me," the Joker growled. "Money's never been something I was after." He took hold of the young man's jacket with his other hand, and heaved the guy off the ground, holding him aloft before throwing him, and his wallet, back into a couple of trapped cops.
The Joker took a moment and leered at the guests around him. A middle-aged woman seemed to catch his eye, and he approached her, licking his lips. "Nervous, aren't ya?" he asked her. "Is it from you not knowing why I'm here or because of the scars?"
What was he doing? I narrowed my eyes in concentration, wishing that I could read the Joker's mind to see what he was planning. He might claim he isn't a schemer, but having the waiters at the fundraiser only proved that he planned ahead. He still improvised, but he always had the basics covered before he let his imagination loose.
The Joker started laughing at the woman as his stare began to unnerve her. "Are you, ah, married?" he asked, "Because I can see that marriage would ruin a woman such as yourself." He faked a violent step forward, and the woman cried out in horror. The Joker giggled in response, seeming to taste her fear with his flickering tongue as it darted out over his lips again.
A man from the crowd shoved his way forward, coming to stand between the woman and the Joker. He was taller than the Joker, enough to make the Joker crane his neck back to look into the man's eyes.
"You must be the lady's husband," the Joker said, his mouth twitching with amusement. "Do you feel insulted by what-ah I said? Think you can match me with size?"
The gentleman glared at him.
Gordon started to struggle against my hold, but I activated my shadow strength to overcome him. I adjusted my grip, placing my gun to the base of his neck.
"Not much of a talker, are you?" The Joker clicked open his switchblade, and the man flinched. "I like that in a man. Less trouble."
"You don't frighten me, little man," the gentleman said in a very deep voice with a heavy accent. He spoke like English wasn't his first language.
The Joker looked at him in mock surprise. "Little man," he repeated. "Tell me, sir, have you ever heard the saying, 'The bigger they are, the harder they fall'?" Before the gentleman could react, the Joker kneed him, and as he doubled over in pain, the Joker stabbed him in the gut, dropping him on the ground where he convulsed in agony.
"Henry!" His wife darted forward, but the Joker leaped at her, grabbing her face, startling her.
"Sh-sh-sh," he hushed her, stroking her cheek. She tried to get out of his grasp, but a flash of his switchblade in front of her face, and she went still, the color in her expression vanishing. "You'll thank me later," the Joker told her before he pushed her away from him and moved out into the open. "C'mon, where's the Com-mish-ioner? I'm on a tight schedule." He took out his waistcoat watch, checking the time.
Nearby, I heard a grunt and whimper of pain. A cop had broken from a server's grasp and had knocked him down. The man was now making a run for the Joker, pulling out a gun from its holster under his suit jacket.
At the sound of the gun being cocked, the Joker's head jerked up, and his eyes caught sight of the cop running towards him. He grinned slightly and waited for the man to come to him. The cop fired, but missed the Joker by inches. Then, the Joker was on him, knocking his weapon out of his hand and making a quick finish of him, throwing him to the ground.
"Anyone else want to try?" the Joker asked, placing his foot on the back of the cop's head. He was applying minimal weight to keep the man down, but it was enough to make the cop whimper as his face was crushed into the floor. "No one?" The Joker's face fell, clearly disappointed. "C'mon, surely there are more cops than just one, not including the Com-mish-ioner."
The Joker spotted someone he recognized. He snapped his fingers twice, and out of the crowd, the three Rottweilers appeared. "Guard," the Joker ordered, pointing to the cop he was holding down. Buddy barked, as if saying, "Yes, sir."
The Joker grinned, slipping both gun and switchblade into his pocket as he stepped away from the cop, who whimpered when Prince growled loudly at him. I watched the Joker as he wandered into the crowd, causing the people to make a path for him. At the end of that path, I saw the detective who had looked very familiar before, Detective Nash.
"How ex-cit-ing," the Joker exclaimed as he approached the detective. "One of the victims of my rivals." He giggled as he added, "Ed-ward."
I blinked, mouth dropping in surprise. I realized where I had seen the detective. It had been difficult from before because he had red hair when I first saw him, but now, I realized that he had dyed it brown for the purpose of hiding his identity. Now, even without the eyemask and green clothing, I recognized Nash as the Riddler.
There was a menacing gleam in the Joker's eyes. I could see it from where I standing with Gordon, and it scared me.
"Wanna see a magic trick?" the clown asked his undercover rival. Edward – the Riddler – stood his ground, keeping a serious expression on his face, and didn't reply. Without a word, the Joker pulled a sharpened pencil from his pocket and slammed it down on the table beside Edward, causing him to flinch slightly. I blinked in surprise when the pencil actually stood upright on its eraser and guessed it to be a brand new one.
Abruptly, the Joker grabbed Edward by the front of his tux, looming into his face. Immediately, there was movement amongst the crowd and before I could spot it, I saw a man pop out, holding a long knife. Even as the man came up behind him, the Joker told Edward, loudly and clearly, "I'm gonna make this pencil…disappear."
The Joker shoved Edward back against the table and spun, snapping one hand on his assailant's wrist while grabbing the back of the guy's head. Fluently, he stepped to the side and slammed the man's forehead down on the sharpened pencil before throwing him backward onto the floor.
Reactions varied about the room. Those closest to actually see the dead man cried out in either a loud gasp or a shriek. Two women fainted at the sight, swooning into their companion's arms. One man turned, bent over, and vomited, resulting in a number of people's protests of disgust as their nice shoes or fine clothing were ruined. Those out about the room who could see covered their eyes with hands and handkerchiefs. Each reaction held one thing in common: disgusted horror.
"Now!" the Joker snapped, scaring everyone closest, including Edward. He grabbed Edward and shoved him toward the middle of the room, into the U-form of the tables. Edward stumbled, managing to catch himself before he fell on a nearby table. "I want to ask you, De-tec-tive. Have you ever seen someone stand on one finger?"
Edward narrowed his eyes. I could practically hear his mind cranking its gears to figure out what the Joker meant. Finally, he shook his head.
The Joker visibly brightened. "Ex-cellant!" he exclaimed. "I'm gonna teach it to yah!" Looming into his face again, the Joker's lips moved, but he spoke quietly, so that whatever he said was for the undercover Riddler to hear. Then, he said clearly, "It's really not that hard to learn. You'll be my assist-ant." He pulled Edward by the front of his tux, throwing him down to the ground.
"With my assist-ant, I'm going to stand on one finger," the Joker explained to the terrified crowd. Crouching down, he pressed down on Edward's back, making sure he remained on the floor, whispering what I guessed to be instructions to the undercover villain to him. Edward remained still as the Joker straightened and, suddenly, stomped his foot on the Riddler's hand.
The crowd around gasped, not as disgusted by this trick, but still horrified by what the Joker had done. Giggling, the clown stepped away, saying, "I never said it was gonna be my finger."
"Neither did you say it'd be a hand." The Joker turned to see Edward on his knees and hand, his broken hand clenched to his chest protectively. Hatred burned in his eyes as he glared at the madman who had hurt him.
The Joker chewed on the inside of his cheek, turning his head and giving Edward a sidelook. "Well, Nash-ah, I did tell you that the faster you moved, the less pain you'd get. If yah moved your hand, I would've missed."
Edward growled and shoved himself to his feet. Seeing the threat from the violent stand-up, the Joker pulled out his gun and aimed it at Edward's chest. The undercover Riddler held himself back, his eyes on the Joker's weapon. "Ever been skydiving before, Nash?" the Joker asked, darkly. "If you want, I can arrange it for yah." He motioned to the windows and said, "There are plenty of exits you could, ah, leave by."
"Nash isn't the one leaving."
The Joker spun around, his eyes darting about the crowd, trying to find who had spoken. Upon hearing the voice, my heart pounded in my chest, rage burning through my system with bursts of adrenaline. In an attempt to hold back my anger before I lost control, I pinched my eyes closed but immediately opened them, sensing movement.
I caught the sudden movement in my peripheral vision; saw the man step out of the crowd with a gun aimed at the back of the Joker's head. Without a second's hesitation, I released Gordon and shadowed over to the man, slamming into him from the side.
His finger pulled the trigger as I hit him. The Joker gasped in pain, dropping his gun on the floor, instantly becoming a victim of Edward who had been waiting for the opportunity. I went down with his attacker, knocking the assailant's weapon out of his hand. Angrily, I grappled with the man, fending off his attempts to fight me, and I pushed him over to his back, taking his set handcuffs on his belt and snapping them down on his wrists.
Having the man down, I jumped to my feet and turned to the Joker. Edward had been pulled off the madman by two masked clowns, allowing him to climb to his feet where he stood, holding his shoulder with a hand, slumped forward, head hanging. He seemed unsteady on his feet, waving from side-to-side. I ran over to him, and tried supporting him, but he pushed me away, resisting my assistance.
The gunshot that wounded the Joker seemed to set off some trigger in the room. Trapped cops fought their capturers, many succeeding in reversing their positions, knocking the Joker's men down to the ground and out of the fight. Without me holding him down, Gordon was back on his feet, gun aimed at me and the Joker.
"How un-fort-unate," the Joker laughed, painfully as he lifted his head. He started to backup, and I moved with him to give the illusion that we weren't moving much. "I think, Com-mish-ioner, that you're still out-numbered. You haven't won yet-ah." He burst into a fit of laughter as two clowns snuck behind the Commissioner, disarming and trapping him. "But I liked your attempt to regain control of the situation."
A cop had moved to the other's side, and I raised my gun, aiming it at the free cop's head. The man warned him, and the cop looked up, paling as he saw the deadly look in my eyes.
Suddenly, the man managed to use his keys to unlock the handcuffs, freeing himself. He grabbed his gun off to the side, staying on his knees, and fired at the Joker again. I saw him moving and shoved the Joker aside, the bullet grazing his right cheek. As the Joker slammed to the ground, unfortunately on his already wounded shoulder, I shadowed toward the assailant again, appearing before him and kicking his gun out of his hand, knocking him onto his back.
Rather than stay with him, I returned to the Joker, clearly irritated, even as I knelt beside the clown as he slowly climbed to his feet.
"We have you surrounded, Joker," Gordon said. I turned my head to see that three other cops had helped rescue him from the two clowns. He held his gun in his hand, but he didn't have it pointed at the Joker.
Seeing this, the Joker looked about the room, to see that the cops were free and were indeed surrounding him. The tables had turned, just because the cops were trained, whereas the Joker's men weren't.
"Drop your weapons," Gordon ordered.
The Joker shrugged, to show that he had no others. I knew of all the knives he had in his pocket, but his switchblade and gun were still on the ground at his feet. He kicked his gun forward, away from him and lifted his hands slightly.
It ticked me off that he was giving up. Surely the Joker never gave in, unless he had no other option. Didn't he remember that I had a shadowing ability? I could get us out of here. But as I reached back and touched his arm, he jerked it away, clearly not wanting that option to be there.
I didn't like it, and I wasn't going to give up, even if the Joker was.
"Drop your weapon," Gordon repeated as the cops closed in. I glared at them, one by one, only gripping my gun tighter. Besides having a fear of hanging over water, I had a small fear for being locked up; that's why I was never caught, even in my twelve years of working for the Mob. I wouldn't do well behind bars.
"Put your gun down, Jane." I spun, locating the man who had spoken, my eyes narrowing at the sight of him. He approached slowly, even though I had my gun aimed at his chest.
"You know him?" the Joker asked behind me.
"Oh, do I know him," I growled, angrily. "Stop where you are, Lieutenant."
"You're not in the situation to be making demands, Jane," he told me, calmly, but he stopped, feet away from me. "Give up, Jane."
I inhaled sharply through my nose, trying to keep my rage under control. "The name's no longer Jane," I whispered coldly. "It's Shadow."
I threw my gun aside and lunged at him. Rapidly, I threw blows at him, scoring a number of them. I had startled him, using his surprise as an advantage. He backed down, trying to defend himself, but I was so angry, so full of hatred, that I threw all I had at him. I knocked him down with a left hook and then took his own gun and pointed it at his head.
While I had been beating him, the whole situation around me had changed again. The Joker's men had gotten up from being "unconscious" and were now knocking down the cops into submission. I thought it had only been a minute, but it seemed like everything could change in just a minute.
Next thing I knew, someone took hold of my shoulders and pulled me away from the lieutenant. I blinked, feeling at a loss as four masked clowns surrounded the lieutenant, one of them hitting him hard with the butt of his gun, before the four of them dragged him away, the crowd moving out of the way, rather than helping the lieutenant.
"You okay?" the familiar husky voice asked by my ear.
I realized I was shaking. My hand released the lieutenant's gun, dropping it on the floor, and I almost collapsed, if it hadn't been for the Joker standing directly behind me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and turned me around to face him, and I caught the concern in his expression, a strange emotion to see on the Joker's painted face.
"I'm fine," I said, hesitantly. I set my feet firmly on the ground and straightened, but the Joker didn't release me, only tightened his hold. "Don't Mister J," I told him, "I'll be fine, honest."
He hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly like he was trying to read my expression, but he eventually released me. I stepped away from him, looked around to make sure no one was watching, turned my attention back and flashed him a small smile. Just as quick, he returned the grin and then turned and wandered toward the crowd again, checking the time on his waistcoat watch.
I turned around to search for the lieutenant, but the four clowns had taken him away. Anger slowly boiled in my veins as I scanned the room, counting the cops trapped by the Joker's men. I locked gazes with the undercover Riddler for a long minute as he tried to fight off the two clowns holding him. A smile stretched across my lips, and having a nasty pleasantry come over me, I blew him a mocking kiss.
When I finally returned my attention to the Joker, he seemed to have control over the crowd's fear, holding a current victim; obviously, he had forgotten all about his wounded shoulder.
The Joker had a young woman by the wrist, his switchblade pressed to her lips. From my position, I heard him speaking about his scars, how he received them when his little sister pushed him down a well and he had smashed into the wood covering it, the splinters ripping open his mouth. The young woman was weeping, from fear or from the horrific images that crossed her mind as the Joker told the story, convincing as he was, his voice changing with faked emotions.
He was so caught up in his story-telling that he didn't see the man dressed up as a bat seem to appear from the crowd.
"Party's over, Joker."
The Joker turned his head, and when he saw the black figure, a wide grin spread over his scarred lips. "A bit late, aren't we?" he asked, shoving the weeping woman away from him and turning. "Glad you could make it, Bats, even when there's a risk of you getting arrested." He made a show of looking about the room. "But of course, I prepared for that, taking care of the cops in the room so that you could join in the fun."
"The fun's finished," Batman replied, in his raspy voice.
"I don't think so," the Joker chuckled. "The fun's only started."
Batman leaped for him. The Joker couldn't move fast enough. Batman slammed into him, knocking him right across the room, where he smashed into a table.
People closest screamed as food and dishes fell onto the floor, glass shattering on impact. Batman headed swiftly for the clown, who blinked his eyes hard, rapidly, like he had hit his head, causing his vision to become blurry. To give him time to recover, I shadowed behind Batman and wrapped my arms around his neck, yanking him down to the floor.
He struggled as I kept my grip on him, moving my head to avoid his punches to my face. I wrapped my legs around him, trying to trap his arms, but he reached up, grabbing my head and jerking his head back, hitting me hard in the face.
My vision swam, and I fell back on the ground, wincing in pain as a headache emerged from the depths. A black blur stood over me, starting to bend over when something slammed down on his head. It sounded like glass, the way it smashed to pieces, and I lifted my arms, protecting my face from shattered bits.
"You're here for me, Bats," the Joker said, angrily. "So come and get me." The black blur over me moved away, clearly going after the Joker, giving me time to push myself slowly to my feet. I felt unsteady, but I pushed my personal matters aside, forcing myself to focus on the Joker.
It seemed to be an even match, Batman using power while the Joker used speed. Batman scored more hits on the Joker than the clown did on him, but the Joker was laughing hysterically as they fought. A few of the Joker's guys came out of the crowd and helped their boss, but the Joker kept yelling at them that the Bat was his.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned my head, sensing that it was an ally, not an enemy. A clown mask stared back at me, but the guy lifted it bit, allowing me to recognize him as Dean.
"Don't join in," Dean whispered to me. "Those guys are going to be punished later for jumping in."
"Why does he like fighting Batman alone?"
"Because," Dean shrugged, "Batman completes him. He's the Bat's biggest fan."
"Biggest fan, at the same time of being his most dangerous rival."
"Yup. That's the Joker for you." Dean and I stood off on the sidelines, watching Batman as he pounded the Joker down to the floor, the clown laughing harder with each hit. "When you get the chance, Shadow, mind letting him know that we've got his man in the van."
"His man?" I asked, confused. Dean winked and disappeared into the crowd.
I turned back to the fight before me, seeing that the Joker was on the verge of losing. I had to stop it soon so, not caring about the consequences, I shadowed into the battle, slamming into Batman from the side, knocking him away from the Joker. I threw a number of rapid punches at the Bat's face before jumping off him and shadowing to the Joker's shadow.
The Joker was on his feet, checking the time on his waistcoat watch. He flinched as I appeared in his shadow, and he shuddered, like he was suddenly cold. "Bleak tells me that they have your man," I whispered into his ear. The Joker nodded and said, "Then, it's time for goodbyes." He sounded disappointed, but he put his watch away.
"Oh, look at the time!" the Joker exclaimed. "I'd love to stay and continue our dance, Bats, but I'm, ah, on a tight schedule."
"What would you have going on?" Batman demanded, climbing to his feet. He started toward the Joker, taking long, quick steps.
"Ya know, the usual," the Joker explained, casually, taking two steps back to Batman's one step forward. I understood the backing up, but moving towards a table, rather than the door?
"I'm a busy guy. Planning threats, planting bombs, kidnapping people, blowing old factories" – an obvious hint to the Ace Chemical Factory – "Robbing banks, destroying the Mob, juggling other top criminals…" The Joker waved his hands dismissively. "The list does on. But-ah," he added with excitement, "I'll leave with a final magic trick that will leave you screaming." The Joker turned and jumped onto the table, spinning back and holding something in both hands.
Batman, who had almost reached him, stopped, noticing the two objects the Joker was holding.
"See these, Bats?" the Joker asked. Then, he dropped his arms to his sides, rolling his eyes. "Of course you see them." I cracked a smile at that as he lifted his hands and continued, "One of these holds enough power to blow all of us to smithereens." Some women wept. "But the other one produces the magic dust I need for my trick. You have ten sec-onds to choose, Batman. Choose wisely, wouldn't want to kill the sweet and inno-cent ci-vil-ians, now would we?" The Joker chuckled and started humming the Jeopardy theme song, ticking down the seconds.
Batman hesitated, but I realized by the Joker's shining eyes that no matter what he chose, it wasn't going to be bad. The Joker wasn't going to kill himself to kill others.
His eyes darted to him, finding me somehow, and I realized that I must have been part of his magic trick. Obediently, I shadowed to his shadow again. The Joker jumped when I appeared, but he didn't stop humming Jeopardy.
Batman lunged for the Joker's legs, but I grabbed the Joker's waist the same moment he dropped both objects. I shadowed us across the room so I could watch the magic "dust" work, and it appeared, covering the whole area, a heavy dust cloud that spread throughout the room.
"Leave me and take the others," the Joker told me. "Take me last."
I did as he told me and shadowed about the room, picking up only the Joker's masked henchmen, leaving the servers behind. The only two I had to grab were Peter and Cory, since Dean was waiting by the cars with the other four clowns who had taken the Joker's man, who, unfortunately for me, turned out to be no other than Lieutenant Hawkins.
Lordlink13: First, I'd like to say thank-you to all of you who wished me a Happy Birthday. I had a wonderful day, with cake, ice cream, presents…it seemed like my different groups of friends had the same brainwave, even though they don't know one another. My birthday gifts were very…shall we saw, Batman-themed. And most of the stuff was Joker-related, though a mix of Heath Ledger's Joker and the very first version of the Joker, back when Bob Kane first made Batman. It's cool, and I loved it anyway. Second, someone had asked me, if this story was a movie, who would I use to play Shadow, and thanks to BootsJim, I've come with an answer: Emma Stone (just picture her hair straight and pulled back most of the time, and add blue eye contacts, and that's the closest picture you can get to my image - and BootsJim's - of Shadow). Now, thirdly, to the story…this chapter was way too difficult to write. I must have rewritten it fifteen times to even get this. It's better than what I had thought to use, because something about my birthday being on Friday 13th this year just struck something in me to make this chapter better. For those who had watched the movie, I certainly hope you recognized one of the Joker's tricks. If not, go watch. The. Movie! Or I'll send the Joker after you! And don't forget to review before you go watch it too. ;)